There's a little girl
Who lives by the river
She's flying kites with all the others
When the sun is sinking
When the sky is breathing
Among the pigs and cows
She sleeps in a cart
Touching white skin
With her own blue eye
(Well.. isn't it a waste?)
And when she grabs one kite
Gliding up the sky
The city rise up from the dust
And feels so high
She close her eyes and dream of touches
That all she ever needed
She hears her mother shouting
While her father
brings no salvation for dinner

Back to the place you belong
Back to the rhythms and the hymns